


Warm Shadow

by walkingivy



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Boners, Early in Canon, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mystery, Pre-Slash, Protectiveness, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romantic Friendship, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 23:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkingivy/pseuds/walkingivy
Summary: Norman is not behaving like his affectionate, energetic self these days, and Andy is going to get to the bottom of it, even if he’s a little afraid of what he’ll find.





	Warm Shadow

Norman had been acting strange for several days. He was quieter, more subdued and generally making very little nuisance of himself. It had also been nearly two weeks since anyone had received his last unsolicited hug or kiss, practically years in Normski-land. It was concerning. 

Andy gently prodded over their morning coffees until Norman snapped at him, and he was forced to back off. Still, as two weeks turned into three, Norman’s performance began to slip and the number of retakes swiftly increased. As much as he liked to play up his lazy tendencies, Norman was not actually a slacker when it came to work. He cared deeply about the show, and the number of goofs he’d been making was unprecedented. Naturally, people were concerned and kept asking him what was wrong. Then, not liking his evasive answers, they’d discreetly ask Andy what was wrong with his best friend. Of course, Andy didn’t know any more than they did and probably wouldn’t share it if he did, so he just recited Norman’s line about being tired and having trouble sleeping.

Norman certainly looked like he was having trouble sleeping with heavy bags under his eyes and shuffling footsteps. A few more days and he’d be able to play Daryl as a Walker without any make-up needed. He also wasn’t eating despite the presence of free food, and was unusually jumpy, all of which was highly suspect. Andy didn’t doubt that Norman was having trouble sleeping, but his gut said that there was more to this problem than a case of insomnia. 

The next day, Andy had to swallow down his frustration and the growing urge to strangle Norman himself. A glance around the set showed that most everyone felt the same way. This scene wasn’t particularly long or complicated, and Daryl wasn’t doing anything more strenuous than the rest of the characters, but Norman botched take after take after take. He used the wrong line, he looked the wrong way, he missed his mark, and what the heck was that facial expression about? By the time they finally had something workable, it was almost noon, and they called for a break. The cast and crew scattered like ants in the rain. 

Andy made to get out of there as well, but cast a glance back at his friend who was having what looked like a very uncomfortable conversation with Greg. Andy sighed. Norman was struggling, and he couldn’t just abandon him because he was annoyed. He turned back around and came up to stand beside his best friend who seemed to be more intent on looking at his feet than responding to Greg. The conversation had died by the time he arrived, and he only caught the tail end of the lecture and a very precise instruction for Norman not to come back to set until he’d slept. It didn’t sound good. Wrapping his arm around Norman’s shoulders and ignoring the way he tensed up, Andy smiled at Greg. 

“He just needs a good night’s rest, is all.”

“I know.” Greg agreed, fishing around in his pocket and throwing a small bottle of pills at Andy who caught them one handed before checking the label. Sleep aids. “I don’t care if you have to drug his food, make sure he sleeps.”

“I’m standing right here.” Norman deadpanned. 

Andy talked over him, assuring Greg that he would handle it and quickly steered Norman away, tucking the pills into his own pocket in case they became necessary. He wouldn’t actually drug him, but he was not above begging and making promises to get Norman to use them. First, he dragged them over to the craft table, handing over a paper plate and started loading it up while Norman held it. 

“My god, you really are planning to drug my food!” Norman exclaimed dramatically. 

Andy rolled his eyes. “There goes my evil scheme. Come on.” They moved quickly back towards Andy’s trailer. Norman was trailing a few paces behind instead of his normal position at Andy’s side, but he wasn’t making any efforts to escape. It reminded Andy of a scolded child who didn’t want to face the consequences his father had in store for him, but was too afraid to go anywhere else. 

Norman sat at the small table and picked at his food, barely eating any of it. When Andy asked him why, he just shrugged. “Too tired to be hungry, I guess.”

“Then lay down, and get some sleep. You can use my bed.”

“Nah.” Norm shook his head, finally stuffing a bite into his mouth, if only to avoid talking. 

“Well, you don’t have to sleep here. You’ve got your own trailer.” When Norman seemed to shrink into himself and shake his head more firmly, pushing away his plate and leaning heavily on the table, Andy sighed. He placed the pill bottle on the table in front of his friend. “Take a couple. You obviously need them.”

“Don’t wanna.” Norm mumbled childishly, his voice practically slurring with fatigue.

“You’re being ridiculous!” Andy growled, slamming his fist against the table in frustration. Norman flinched and jerked away from him, looking more scared than Andy could recall seeing him out of character. Actually, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Daryl look scared like that, either. His heart clenched, and he recoiled, guilt twisting in his gut at evoking such a response. Andy took a step back, then another before plopping on the lumpy sofa. “Join me on the couch?” He asked hesitantly. 

Norm accepted, trudging over, and pressing into Andy’s side like there wasn’t an entire cushion unoccupied beside him. Andy took the contact as a comfort, that at least his friend wasn’t scared of him. But he was scared of something. Before the silence could become uncomfortable, Norman pulled out his phone from his pants and whipped open a pass and play game like there was nothing remotely unusual about the break they were taking. He leaned even further into Andy’s space to watch him type out his responses until the weight of his head was entirely on Andy’s shoulder and his body was curled into him. 

Andy ignored him in favor of the game, taking his time with his move before attempting to hand the phone back. Norman didn’t take it. Andy shifted slightly, craning his neck to confirm, and yes, Norm had somehow managed to fall asleep sitting up and sprawled half on top of him within the last minute. He sighed, torn between waking him up so he could get some real sleep laying down and cheering in victory that he’d actually accomplished the task he’d been assigned. It wasn’t a risk he was willing to take, so instead, he just settled in to entertain himself with Norman’s phone, which had far more game options than the one tetris-like game that came on his flip phone.

After half an hour of no movement from his friend, even when Andy shifted to get more comfortable and somehow managed to bring Norman even further onto his lap, he sent a text to let Greg know about the status of his mission. Not ten minutes later, the phone beeped in receipt of a new email, which he brazenly opened. As expected, they’d shifted the shooting schedule to accommodate Norman’s nap. Scenes with main characters were usually shot earlier in the day, as lighting and weather permitted, so that they could be redone as many times as needed. Yet now both Rick and Daryl weren’t needed on set for another two hours, and Daryl wouldn’t be needed for two hours after that. 

Andy sent a quick, ambiguous thank you note before deciding to browse the web to kill time. The warm, steady breath on his neck was both comforting and distracting, and the added weight had Andy wiggling periodically to alleviate the numbing in his legs. The movement didn’t seem to bother Norman, who slept like a stone, completely dead to the world despite the uncomfortable position.

Andy stayed until the last possible minute before he was needed in make-up. He tried hopelessly to slip out from the octopus grip his friend had on him without waking him up, but knew it was useless even before Norman propped himself up and squinted bleary eyed. He looked sleepy and disheveled, but Andy knew he wasn’t going to follow his instruction to rest even before he gave it. 

“You’ve got another two hours. Go back to sleep.” Norman blinked at him. “Also, your battery is almost dead.”

The filming they did that afternoon went infinitely smoother than that morning. When Norman joined them, he looked much more alert, even if it was more from the large cup of coffee gripped in his hand than from the earlier nap. Whatever the reason, he was back to acting properly, in character anyway, and they got through the scheduled work quickly. 

Norman didn’t stick around a moment longer than necessary after they finished filming, as if sensing how much Andy wanted to have a Talk with him. He contemplated calling him about a dozen times, each time putting his phone back into his pocket as soon as he’d drawn it. There was a chance that Norm had gone straight to sleep when he got home. He’d certainly been tired enough. If Andy called, he might just wake him up, and that would be counter-productive.

Any hope of him getting a good night’s rest before he returned the next day was shot when Norman came in the next morning yawning and shuffling his feet more than the extras they hired for zombies. Andy frowned at him, but Norman was too busy looking at the ground to notice. 

The rest of the week took on a routine of Norm not answering any questions, but falling asleep on top of Andy the moment the invitation was made, no matter how tiny the break in filming was or how many people were watching in confusion. Andy quickly discovered that Mel was, thankfully, an acceptable substitute, and he could transfer Norman onto her without complaint, which more than doubled his sleeping time and kept him just this side of functional on set because it was absolutely clear that he was not sleeping at home.

When the weekend arrived and it looked like they would, in fact, get two whole days of break, Andy recruited a reluctant Steven into stalling Norman as he tried to rush out when Daryl was no longer needed but Rick still was. Andy wasn’t sure what Steven was jabbering on about to a very bored looking Norman because the instant he saw Andy, he stopped mid-sentence and literally ran away. 

Norman spun around to see what had caused the reaction and even his sleep deprived brain managed to put two and two together. He scowled at Andy. It was an expression that Andy cheerfully ignored. “Glad I caught you before you ducked out. I could really go for some company this weekend. What do you say we swing by your place, grab Eyes and spend a glorious two days doing nothing but eating pizza and watching TV?”

It was a ploy so obvious that it might as well have the word ‘ploy’ scribbled on top of it, and for a moment of silence, Andy was afraid that it was a misstep to push his friend into it. Norman was a tense line that looked about ready to topple at any moment. But there was relief in his eyes when he met Andy’s gaze. Andy smiled, glad he’d made the effort.

After a quick detour, they arrived back at the place Andy generally considered home these days. Norman got his cat situated in the living room, petting the spoiled creature several times before dragging his small bag into Andy’s guest bedroom. Andy set up the litter box and washed his hands without complaint, watching as Norman checked the locks on both the front and back doors for a second time. He resisted the urge to press him on it, even though he nearly jumped straight off the couch when the doorbell rang.

“Pizza.” Andy clarified simply, calming him in a manner that would hopefully not come across as condescending. 

Norm picked at the pizza, working through about half a slice before giving up and laying his head in Andy’s lap. Andy carefully set a hand on his head, slipping his fingers into Norman’s hair and idly stroking it when there wasn’t any tension or protest. Instead, Norm was practically purring at the attention. Or maybe that was Eyes-in-the-Dark perched in the boat of Norman’s legs. 

Andy wasn’t even sure what sitcom was running on the television, too concerned with Norm’s erratic behavior. He didn’t have a lot of answers because the man was being strangely tight-lipped, but Andy did know a few things. Norman had developed a sudden, deep fear of something, and that fear was keeping him from sleeping properly. He didn’t want to be left alone, but was simultaneously shrinking into himself. It didn’t seem to be getting any better as time went on, and there was no way Andy was going to be able to ignore it, even if he wanted to. 

After an hour of staring blankly at the screen, Andy stretched, accidentally dislodging Norman and waking him up. “I need a real bed. No way I’m going to sleep sitting up on the couch.” Norman nodded slowly, getting to his feet like the task was closer to running a marathon, and Andy didn’t have it in him to ignore what he suspected would be an acceptable compromise. “If you don’t want the guest bedroom, you can share with me.” 

Andy could see the eagerness Norman was trying to taper down, like a child who’d just been told Christmas was coming early this year, but not to tell anyone else.

It probably should have felt weird to sleep snuggled up with his friend that he was definitely attracted to in a bed that he’d last shared with his wife, but whatever residual awkwardness completely evaporated when Norman fell straight to sleep. Besides, Andy knew his wife would be fine with Norman’s presence in his bed, even if it had been for sex. She’d made that clear with one awkward as hell conversation she’d forced on him about what she called their “codependent relationship.” Andy still wasn’t sure what either of them had done over that holiday vacation that warranted so much discussion, but it had somehow spurred a series of talks about expectations and trust. In the end, they’d agreed to an ‘open marriage with a loyalty pact.’ It hadn’t changed much of anything between them, and sure as fuck hadn’t changed anything between Andy and Norm, but she’d seemed so much happier to have had the discussion. 

Norman was thankfully less like an octopus, but he did have a limb stretched over Andy at all times and would jerk awake at the slightest indication that he was trying to get up. Which meant that Andy was forced to keep up with Norman’s rigorous sleeping schedule. They spent the entire weekend migrating between the bed, the couch and the kitchen, and by the end of it, Norman had actually started to act more like himself, cracking jokes and talking about his plans with Mingus in a few weeks.

An unexpected benefit of Norman’s stay was that Andy had a captive audience on the ride into work. He took full advantage. “Tell me the truth, are you going to sleep at all if you go home tonight?”

Norm looked out the window, biting his nails in a way Andy wasn’t sure he’d taken from or given to Daryl. “Probably not.”

“Then stay with me for the week.” Andy suggested. “Eyes is already there, anyway.”

Norman wiggled his foot and shifted in his seat before letting out a sigh. “I hate this.”

“Spending time with me?” Andy asked, half teasing but a little concerned.

Norm seemed to pick up on the self-doubt and snorted. “No, idiot. That’s the best part of my day. I hate imposing on everyone like this.”

“It’s not an imposition. I like the company. And I like feeling like I’m helping.” Andy corrected, smiling at his best friend. Norman didn’t return it.

“Okay.”

After sleeping all weekend, Norman was a new man, and it showed as the week of filming progressed. He was on the top of his game, so different from the flustered mess he was last week that everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at once. But Andy was still worried because Norman was doing better at his job, but it seemed like a conscious effort, like he was trying to make up for his shortcomings through sheer force of will. He was alert and on the ball without the need of his daily naps, but only because he clung to Andy every night. He joked and laughed and took selfies every ten minutes, but he still shied away from the hugs and kisses that he’d normally lay on countless unsuspecting victims. It was less like he was back to his old self, and more like he finally had the energy to act like his old self. 

On Wednesday, Andy woke up completely wrapped around Norman, face buried in his hair, and morning-wood pressed firm against Norman’s backside. It was obvious he was awake because of the tension in his body, and Andy knew that there was no way to save face, so he just jerked backwards and untangled himself as quickly as possible with a curse and a dozen apologies, before slipping into the bathroom. He glared at his crotch but the erection would not disappear, so he gave up and took care of the problem by hand. He would love to say that he was thinking about his wife, but that was definitely not the case. His mind was on Norman’s stupidly chiseled biceps, his broad shoulders and his tapered waist in a manner that was definitely not going to be passed off as friendly if he ever confessed to the thoughts. 

After washing his hands for a third time, Andy finally admitted that he was procrastinating and returned to his bedroom. Norman had taken the opportunity to flee, but didn’t look upset with him when they met in the kitchen. He was busy making scrambled eggs. While Andy contemplated apologizing again, he realized that Norman had not said  _ anything _ . He should have elbowed him in the gut the moment he’d felt his hard-on. He should have teased him mercilessly and with terrible puns. He should have pestered him for the content of his dreams. He should have shrugged it off as no big deal because those little fuckers have a mind of their own. Hell, it would have been less surprising if he’d just rolled over and seriously offered to give him a hand because Andy had never asked but he was pretty sure Norman fucked guys, and he sure as hell wasn’t a prude. The complete lack of response was bizarre in the extreme. He’d just frozen up. In the end, Andy didn’t bring it up, and Norman went right on cuddling him that night, like it had never happened.

On Friday night, Andy was done waiting. He wasn’t sure Norman would stick around much longer before trying to go home and not-sleep by himself under the guise of self-sufficiency. And while his friend was doing better than he had been, nothing that had caused the problem in the first place had been resolved. So he was going to have to push. 

“I think I’ve been pretty patient.” Andy started when they were lying in bed together, Norman on his arm, making sure he couldn’t leave without waking him, but otherwise not really touching. He didn’t conk out immediately anymore now that he wasn’t so sleep deprived, so Andy thought they might actually get a conversation. 

Norman turned to him curiously and with no small amount of trepidation. “Yeah. Thanks. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.” 

Andy shook his head. “No, I’m not saying I want you to leave. I like the company. But… I need to know what’s going on.” 

Norman quickly shifted away, turning his back to him again. “It’s no big deal. I’m feeling better now anyway.” Andy let out a sigh and rolled onto his back, arm still trapped under Norm’s shoulders, but not really minding. “Look, if it were just a curiosity thing, I’d let it go. But you’re jumpy, and locking my doors, and avoiding your trailer, and unwilling to sleep by yourself, and not eating properly, and… and hurting. And I can’t just watch you suffer, but I don’t know how else to help you because I don’t know what the problem is.” It was hard for Andy not to raise his voice in frustration, but he knew it wasn’t going to improve the situation. 

Norman was quiet for a long time, so he figured he hadn’t said enough to convince him. “I won’t tell anyone. Just… just tell me what happened. Fuck, just give me a hint here!” Andy let out a huff and tried to wait. He didn’t know what else to say or do. He waited for what felt like hours, but he could tell Norman hadn’t drifted off by the way he was breathing. “Norm…”

In a flash of action, Norman had rolled over and climbed on top of Andy, sweeping his arms in towards the sides of his head until he was pinned. Norm braced himself on his knees tucked to either side of Andy’s hips and his hands which were wrapped around Andy’s wrists in a grip that was edging on painful. His jaw was clenched and his expression and the fire in his eyes suggested he wasn’t just angry, but furious. His lip was curled into something between a snarl and a sneer that looked like Norman was borrowing straight from his attempts to make Daryl appear menacing. 

Still, despite being unable to move and staring into the angry face above him, Andy didn’t feel trapped. He felt secure in the knowledge that Norman had never and would never hurt him. And despite Norman not usually displaying any sort of dominant tendencies, quite the opposite in fact, Andy found that his dick was entirely on board with Norman’s uncharacteristic aggression. Andy just hoped that Norm wouldn’t lean back and find that out for himself because he was pretty sure that would derail whatever answers might be heading his way. “I’m stronger than you.” Norman growled. 

“Yeah.” Andy agreed, trying to keep his face and voice neutral. It wasn’t something he was inclined to contest. He knew he was strong, but he had a lithe build and doubted he would really be competition. He certainly wouldn’t be any sort of competition in his current position. He began to wonder if he could actually break out of Norm’s hold, but still he didn’t struggle. 

Norman’s grip loosened, and Andy thought he might pull back but instead he was suddenly pushing forward and kissing him, hard and demanding. Norman worked to deepen the kiss, and Andy opened for him, letting him in and letting him take control. He tasted like cigarettes and faintly of the beer they had with dinner, and he was more aggressive than Andy had anticipated, but that didn’t bother him. What bothered him was how completely soft Norman was inside his pants, a discovery he made when they shifted slightly for a better position, because that was when it all came together for him. Andy could practically hear the click echoing inside his head.

It was the lack of interest in these proceedings that made Andy suddenly recall that Norman was doing what he asked, was trying to tell him what had happened, and he  _ wasn’t _ making a move on him, despite all appearances to the contrary. It was Norman’s lack of interest that ironically made him suddenly feel trapped, the exact sensation he figured Norman had been trying to elicit from the beginning, and had him pushing things further when Andy didn’t respond the way he wanted.

Andy tugged and yanked at his arms, recognizing the statement about strength that Norman had made earlier for what it was: an uncomfortable fact that could be downright scary in the right circumstance. Norman did not let his struggles persist, jerking back like he’d been shocked the second Andy provided any sort of resistance. He stared down, wide-eyed, and seemingly surprised by the whole situation. 

“Off.” Andy demanded, breathlessly. Norman didn’t just get off of him, he was off of the bed and heading towards the door before Andy could even sit up properly. “Wait, hang on.” Andy grunted, trying to get his breath much more from the thoughts circling in his head than the admittedly brief kiss. Norm hadn’t known how to tell him, so he’d tried to show him what had happened to cause him to freak out so badly, and what Andy had seen was a decidedly sexual attack of aggression, of being overpowered, of being trapped. He felt sick and swallowed hard. “Come back. You just… surprised me.”

Norman did return, hesitantly and not meeting his eyes, but he crawled back into the bed and even into Andy’s outstretched arms. He’d thought knowing would somehow quell the frustration and feelings of ineptitude when it came to helping his friend, but they were worse now than before. Questions swirled in his head that he didn’t think he could ask, not just yet. Who did this? Were they still around? When did this even happen? How far did it go? Instead, Andy just petted Norman’s hair and pressed gentle kisses to the top of his head, murmuring about how it was okay, over and over, and trying not to think about how wrong that statement felt. He couldn’t get back to sleep.

After breakfast, they moved to the couch where they’d watched so much TV over the last week, but instead of turning it on, Andy set the remote out of reach. Norman cringed visibly before flopping back against the couch. “I don’t suppose there’s any way we’re not talking about this.” 

Andy bit his lip, wishing he could give the reprieve. “Well, no. We can’t just completely ignore this. Hasn’t exactly been working so far.” 

Norman turned his back to Andy, ostensibly to pet his cat who had taken permanent residence at the end of the fluffy chair, but primarily to avoid any eye contact. It was obvious, but not something either of them was going to mention. Truthfully, Andy took it as a good sign because shifting away from eye contact meant he was more likely to share something uncomfortable than to get angry and blow up about it. 

He could practically feel the change in Norm, like whatever they’d fumbled through last night had busted open the bubble trapping words inside his throat. He didn’t know if he was ready to talk yet, but figured he might be ready to try. “What the hell is there to talk about? Am I supposed to tell you how I feel? I’m a guy past his prime surrounded by beautiful young women and somehow I managed to get myself raped. How the fuck does that even happen? Not that I’d want any of them to get hurt, but I just… I just…” Norm shook his head fiercely and Andy took the opportunity to interrupt gently, swallowing hard at the way his friend had used the ‘rape’ word and now there was no room for misinterpretation. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I think you should talk to someone, and I hope that I’ll be that person you trust, but I’m not going to dig around for anything you don’t feel comfortable telling me. There’s only one thing we have to talk about, and it can’t wait.” Norm turned slightly and inched a little closer, but he still didn’t look at him. Andy sighed. “Are you… Could this happen again?” 

Norman turned away again, petting his cat and hanging his head low. His response was flat and very quiet. “Why do you think I’m sleeping in your bed every night?”

Andy’s creeping suspicion was confirmed, but he’d wanted so badly to be wrong. His instinct was to ask if it’d happened before, but he bit it back. He’d promised that he wasn’t going to go digging, except for what was needed. He concentrated on only the immediate problem. “We have to go to the police.” 

Norman was already shaking his head before he’d even gotten through the whole thought. “I can’t. Even if they believe me, it’ll get out. Someone will leak it, and it’ll ruin my career. It’ll ruin the show.”

Andy was carefully cataloging what he wanted to say in response about Norman thinking he wouldn’t be believed or that it would get out when his mouth jumped straight over all that. “Wait… He works with us?” 

“I didn’t say that.” Norman said quickly. “It’s a scandal. The pap will eat it up.”

Andy’s heart thudded. “Norman, answer the question. Does he work with us?” 

“No. Yes. Sort of.”

Andy had no idea what that could mean, and he wished his friend wasn’t being so evasive. He got that Norman was scared of this guy, and that he was rightly afraid of what would happen if the media got ahold of the story, but he was being obtuse. “I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

“You’re already helping me.” 

“What’s going to happen when Mingus comes?” It was a low blow, but Andy wasn’t sure how else to get through to Norman. “Is he going to have to stay here, too?”

“Fuck you!” Norm shouted, leaping to his feet and gathering up Eyes like he was preparing to leave, obviously forgetting that he didn’t have a vehicle with him. “I’m not going to let anything happen to my son.” 

“How are you going to protect him when you’re not protecting yourself?” Andy shouted back, angry and on his feet as well. Even though he was upset, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. It sounded like he was blaming Norm for what happened, when nothing was further from the truth. The truth was that Andy was terrified on his friend’s behalf and it was worse because Norman didn’t seem to be making any effort to correct the situation. 

Norman gave him the finger and stalked off with his cat tucked into his shirt. Andy sighed, and sat back down. That hadn’t gone well at all, and he couldn’t do much to fix it until Norm cooled off. He heard the sound of his own car engine start and then the crackle of it driving on the gravel. He only had the one car here, but he wasn’t concerned about Norman taking it. There were a lot of people he could call on Monday if Norman hadn’t calmed down enough to come pick him up by then. 

The contemplation proved irrelevant as Norman returned a few hours later, clock pointing to just after noon when Andy picked up the sound of tires on gravel again, followed by the echoing of an engine in his garage before it cut out. Norman knocked on the door even though he had a key, and Andy opened it for him. He didn’t immediately step inside. Instead, he shuffled on the front porch, fast food bag in one hand and Eyes in his other. 

“I’m sorry. I brought lunch.”

“It was my fault.” Andy replied, ushering his friend past and closing the door behind him. “I shouldn’t have tried to make you talk about something you weren’t ready for.”

“You’re scared.” Norm shrugged. Then muttered in a voice that was probably meant to be too quiet to hear, “Me, too.” Norman was still dressed as he’d been earlier with nothing to show for his trip aside from the food, so Andy figured he probably hadn’t even made it home before changing his mind. Maybe he’d sat in the driveway unable to go inside by himself. 

Eyes-in-the-Dark reclaimed the fluffy chair perch as they moved over to the sofa and extracted their meal. They spent the rest of the day, and the following one, pretending very hard that they weren’t both obsessively thinking about what had happened to Norman and talking about everything but what was lingering on their minds.

When Monday rolled around, they headed out early for a long day of shooting. Hopefully the weather would hold, and they wouldn’t be sent home again with nothing to show for their efforts except instructions to come in the following weekend. Norman was starting to tense up as they neared the set, enough that Andy only then realized exactly how much he’d managed to relax at Andy’s house. He thought back to the response Norm had given him about whether or not his attacker worked with them, and modified ‘sort of,’ to ‘definitely.’ 

“Just… for my own peace of mind, stay with me or Mel at all times, would you?” 

“Yeah.” Norman agreed. “It’s what I’ve been doing anyway.”

“Yeah.” Andy wondered if he’d already unknowingly helped Norm just by his presence. It wasn’t like the bastard was going to make a move with witnesses around. His eyes scanned the crew milling about, like knowing that one of them was a rapist would somehow make them stick out in a way they didn’t before. It couldn’t be one of the cast, right? Norman only seemed to completely trust him and Mel to guard him in his sleep, but he knew those people, and there were no monsters among them. Of course, he hadn’t thought  _ anyone _ on set could want to hurt them. 

“Come on.” Norm snorted, tugging on his wrist. “You’re thinking too loud.”

Andy gave him an apologetic look, and tried to be more discreet, but he didn’t stop watching people more closely than he’d ever attempted before. He could tell by the way that Norman passed him occasional exasperated looks that he wasn’t keeping it stealthy enough, but Andy didn’t even care. Which of these men were strong enough to pin Norman down like that? Who had the opportunity? Was anyone passing him looks? 

They got ready side-by-side, and Andy hardly bothered keeping up with small talk from the people around him. There were several people working in props and wardrobe who looked bulky enough to manage the task, particularly if they caught Norm off guard. He glared at them without conscious thought until Norman whacked him upside the head. 

“If I had known you were going to act like this, I’d’ve kept this shit to myself.” 

“Sorry.” Andy cringed. He was probably making this awful for Norman, but he couldn’t help wanting to pinpoint the exact problem so he could start working on getting rid of it. He scooted his chair closer, and tried to tone it down for his friend’s benefit. 

Andy worked hard to keep his mind on his job, but he found his eyes drifting across the set as frequently as he could get away with it. Who was looking at Norm that shouldn’t be? Did anyone seem incongruous? It was exhausting, and he wasn’t getting anywhere. He was reasonably sure that it couldn’t be the cast because there was no way Norm would be able to make it through his scenes if he was that scared, right?

It wasn’t until two fruitless days later that Andy realized what he was doing wrong. He was looking at everyone else when he should be looking at Norman. Who was Norm comfortable with and who caused him to draw back? As soon as his focus shifted, the problem areas became obvious. Norman was fine on set and in the crowds of people milling around, but he was nothing but nervous energy in make-up and wardrobe. It made sense that he’d tense up when people touched him, given what had happened. 

Andy nearly dismissed the correlation entirely because both of the people who regularly worked on him were women. They were also both women Andy had seen flirt openly with Norm but get nowhere. Tammy in make-up liked to throw around sexual innuendos about how dirty Daryl got, but worked silently these days like Norm had snapped at her one too many times. Chrissy in wardrobe was professional in her behavior and movements, but Andy still remembered the flirtatious look she’d given him when she’d accidentally bumped against his junk while reseating his gun belt. If Norman had ever been on the receiving end of one of those, he could imagine how uncomfortable the man must feel with her hands on him.

Chrissy was crouched at Norman’s feet adjusting the bands tied around his pant-legs to match the picture from the last scene. Norm sucked in a breath unexpectedly and jerked his leg out of her grip, taking a step backwards. Andy had no idea what she’d done, if anything, but he was paying close attention now. 

“Hold still.” Chrissy scolded, scooting forward and shifting the laces again, other hand sliding up Norm’s leg to grip his thigh in a movement that appeared to be steadying, but was edging toward a caress. Her petite hand crept north on his inner thigh so slowly that Andy probably wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t laser-focused on her touch. Norman was shaking. He’d probably been doing it before, but it was then that the trembling became too obvious to miss. Andy wasn’t sure if he was even breathing. 

“That’s good enough.” Andy stepped in, ready to grab her hand and forcibly remove it should she not accept the comment immediately. 

Chrissy smiled and straightened up, placing a hand on Norman’s bicep instead, and ignoring Andy. “Just want to get it right. Everyone’s watching you.”

Andy stared as the young woman that nearly everyone said was too pretty to be behind the scenes sashayed from the room, glancing back over her shoulder with a wink before disappearing. “Holy shit. Is she always like that with you?”

“Worse, usually.” Norman responded once he’d started breathing again. “She’s less subtle in private.”

“Why the hell do you put up with that?”

Norman sighed and sat down heavily on the couch. “I reported her for it when it started to get bad. I was told it was a misunderstanding, that she has a boyfriend already. I was told that if they fired everyone in wardrobe who accidentally touched somewhere private, they’d have no staff, and that if they fired everyone who flirted with their coworkers, I’d be out of a job myself.” Norm let out a mirthless chuckle. “They didn’t seem to understand why I would complain about a girl who looked like that putting her hands on me.” Norman turned away, tucking his head in and wrapping his arms around his stomach. He looked distinctly ill.

Andy gaped for a minute as he tried to puzzle through what had just happened. If  _ Norman _ of all people had felt uncomfortable enough with the sort of touch he’d been getting to report it, it must have been really bad. He was always easy-going about physical contact, seemed to thrive on it, and accepted it from strangers almost as easily as from friends. And despite all that, he’d been dismissed for feeling uncomfortable. Was Chrissy the culprit he’d been trying to identify? How could she have subdued a man with several inches and a hundred pounds on her? Blackmail? But that didn’t make sense. It didn’t match the pieces he’d slipped from Norman so far. 

“You’re not saying it was her that… that raped you. Right?” 

Norman seemed to curl further in on himself. “See? I told you the police wouldn’t believe me. You don’t even believe me.”

“No, I -” Andy fumbled to his knees and grasped at Norman’s shoulders in an attempt to convey that he was there for him, no matter what he said. If he said Chrissy hypnotised him or knew kung-fu, he was still going to back him up. Andy already felt sick that he’d apparently watched Norm’s rapist touching him again. “I just don’t understand. Tell me what happened.”

Norman’s voice was reedy and choked when he finally managed to get the story out. He was obviously trying to stay detached but it wasn’t working. “She was in my trailer late in the evening when I went to change. I told her to get out, but she just laughed. I didn’t know her boyfriend was behind me until he jumped me. They gagged me, and then he held me down for her. I didn’t want to react, but I couldn’t help it.” Norm sucked in a shaky breath. “And after she was done, he said he wanted a turn. I wasn’t strong enough to stop him, either. When they were leaving, she said I should report it, see if they believed me this time.” 

Norman’s body was stiff as Andy tugged him into a hug, but he eventually relaxed in the embrace, swallowing hard and trying to choke down his emotions. Andy had no idea what was flowing from his mouth except that his brain was determined to soothe his distraught best friend. He hoped he said that it wasn’t his fault, that he was going to keep him safe, that it was going to be okay, but he might have been saying that they were going to burn in hell. 

Tammy was surprisingly sympathetic when Andy dragged Norman back to her with all of her hard work smudged and ruined twenty minutes later. It probably had something to do with how miserable they both looked. They were already late to set, so she hurried through the job and shooed them away.

Andy tried to push the thoughts of everything Norm had said out of his mind, but there was no way he could concentrate on his work. So he wasn’t going to try. Instead, he snagged Greg’s arm and led him a few paces away while he was still expressing his annoyance that both he and Norm were late. 

“It’s going to become a lot worse than that.” Andy said gravely. “I’m not going to film one more scene until Chrissy from wardrobe is fired and blacklisted.” 

Greg blinked at him a few times before frowning. “You’re joking, right? Look, if her goof made you late, that’s just petty.” 

“She didn’t goof. I’m not joking. I need her gone.” 

“Are you going to tell me why?” Greg asked plaintively, and Andy felt a small flame of guilt. He was Andy’s friend first and foremost, but Norman needed him.

“No.” 

Greg let out a long suffering sigh. “I’ll see what I can do during the next break.”

“That’s not good enough.” Andy pressed. “I’m not doing  _ anything _ until she’s gone.” 

Greg grumbled something under his breath about divas before stomping towards the group. “Anyone else on strike?” The question seemed directed primarily at Norman, who was the most likely candidate to jump ship if Andy went over. He didn’t say anything. “Good. Film what you can without Rick. I’ll be back.”

There was something to be said for star power. Andy didn’t employ it often for fear of getting a bad reputation, but it did get things done. He didn’t let Norman in on the exchange until they were lying in his bed that night. “Chrissy’s gone. Word is she’s moving out of state.”

“That was your strike?” Norman stiffened at the name, and Andy cuddled closer to him, gently prodding until he felt the weight of his head against his shoulder. 

Andy nodded. “I couldn’t have her there. I couldn’t have her anywhere near you.”

“She might do it to someone else, though.” Norm mumbled morosely, voice muffled as he spoke into Andy’s shirt.

“It’ll be a risk as long as she and her boyfriend aren’t in jail.” Andy acknowledged. He didn’t say that she might still come after Norman, too. They both knew that was a possibility. They’d have to take precautions. “You can still report it to the police.”

“I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s all I ask.” Andy replied. He didn’t know if Norman would ever come around to the idea of getting the police involved. He didn’t know how long it would take him to not feel the need to follow him around all day and crawl into his bed at night. He didn’t know how long it would take for the jumpiness to dissipate or the lingering fear to ebb. The only thing Andy knew for sure was that he’d be there every step of the way. 

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you for EpitomyofShyness for jumping into the deep end here and giving this story a shot at life. I'd been prepared to smother it, but now I'm kind of fond of the way it turned out. The suggestions were endlessly helpful and the editing made this sucker into something coherent.


End file.
